Don't Get Me Wrong
by annidote
Summary: Quinn Fabray wakes up on the set of Glee, with no idea how she got there. Quinn/Naya Rivera.
1. Chapter 1

Quinn came to with a dulled pain in her back. As the fog of sleep rescinded, she realized it was because she was... on the floor? In a _public_ restroom? Disgusted into wakefulness, she grabbed around for the sink and hauled herself up.

It was a nice restroom, at least. Large, with thankfully clean floors, marble sink with modern faucets, dark wood doors. She gingerly patted the back of her head and rotated her arms, feeling sore from the ground but otherwise uninjured. In the mirror, she spied her own startled visage and the thin, pale pink straps of her simple night shift. Her immediate, horrified thought was that she'd been roofied. Was it possible? She tried to remember the night before, but drew a blank. She felt a little strange.

Outside, she could hear people approaching. Laughing voices, muffled through the door and walls.

"Oh," she emitted, before clamping a hand over her mouth. In a panic, she shoved herself into one of the stalls and closed the door. The latch slid shut louder than she would have liked.

The outside door opened. A women entered and stood in front of the mirrors, discussing evening plans over the phone. Her voice was unfamiliar to Quinn, but she sounded benign and American. (She'd not been kidnapped and shipped to another country, at least. Not yet, anyway. She'd heard of these things happening to young girls.) The friendly voice didn't set off any alarms in her gut, so she took a deep breath and opened the lock. She peered from behind the door, feeling too vulnerable and bizarre in her nightgown to step into full view.

"Excuse me?" her voice sounded pathetically small.

An older blonde in a casual jean and t-shirt outfit, turned around. "Hey... Dianna?"

"I," she started, but the words died in her dry throat. She looked at this stranger and, to her horror, felt tears welling in her eyes. "I don't know where I am. Please, can you help me?"

The woman looked dumbfounded.

Quinn wiped at her tears with her palms, feeling foolish but unable to collect herself. "I woke up here, on the floor. I don't remember anything. I don't know what's going on. I, I just."

"Oh," said the woman, "Oh honey. We'll figure this out. Matt, can I call you back?" then to Quinn again, "Let me just... hang on, sweetie. Let me get someone."

"Okay," she sniffed. Then, minding her manners, "Thank you."

The woman stepped outside. "Anyone out here? Hey! Naya? One sec."

The door closed and Quinn could hear low whispers outside. She felt a shock of fear pass through her again. What if she had misjudged her? What if this woman, and the other person, what if they were... cohorts? In some kind of kidnapping scheme?

Quinn stepped out to take stock her surroundings again, feeling anxious and skittish. She smoothed her hands along her nightgown and tried to think. No pockets, of course. No cell phone. No wallet. Nothing.

The door swung open, and someone else walked in.

_Santana_.

Relief hit Quinn all at once, like a ton of bricks. She felt it spread giddily through her body.

"Oh God," Quinn exclaimed with uncharacteristic fervency, letting her legs automatically carry her closer. Her best friend felt warm and stabilizing in her arms. She pulled back just enough to ask, "Where are we? What happened? I woke up on the floor. Did we go somewhere? It's the strangest thing. I just can't remember."

Naya's eyebrows shot upwards and then came together, lips parting in surprise. She retreated slowly from the embrace until she was only gently grasping Quinn by the elbows. Those familiar eyes took in Quinn's face with blended confusion and concern. "Dianna?"

"Who's Dianna?"


	2. Chapter 2

_Recap: Quinn just woke up in only her sleepwear, seemingly on the floor of a random restroom. She has no recollection of traveling there, and her short term memory is inexplicably nonexistent. Now Naya is here, but Quinn thinks she's Santana. And Naya thinks Quinn is Dianna-on-drugs. WTF._

_Thanks for the tremendous response so far, and apologies for the failed update yesterday! Keep it coming. Do you guys prefer short chapters/fast updates or big chapters/longer turnaround?_

* * *

Naya pointed at herself, "Naya." Then at Quinn, "_Dianna_."

"No," Quinn denied, and mimed the pointing with a deep frown. "Santana. _Quinn_."

As if encouraged by the gesturing, Naya's gaze flickered up, then downwards... taking in the sleep-tousled hair, the silky slip of material over her curves, the exposed legs. She seemed to become a little distracted.

Unwilling to be provoked, Quinn forced herself endure the scrutiny without reacting. She crossed her arms primly, but eventually felt a hot blush stealing over her chest and face. "Stop messing around, San," she said finally, rolling her eyes for emphasis. Her face was on fire. "My eyes are up here. Do you know what happened or not?"

To her surprise, Naya laughed. "Sorry Di," came the flippant response, paired with a cheeky grin. "I mean, check out that body on you."

"Excuse me?"

"Please. You know you're a sexpot. So, what's happened now? You really freaked out that woman from Production earlier."

Quinn pursed her lips, thrown off, "I've been trying to tell you that I don't know _what happened_."

Naya's gaze sharpened somewhat, "God, are you actually on something right now? At work?"

"No, _are you_?"

"Feisty." Naya noted with some surprise, backing up, that irritating curve returning to her full lips. "_And_ dazed. Maybe not the safest combination. How about we get you home, kitten?"

Before she could respond, Naya shrugged off her stone wash denim jacket and settled it around Quinn's bare shoulders. She swept her hair out from under the material and smoothed down the collar.

"Are you done with filming today?"

"Seriously, what are you talking about?"

"Okay Happy Pills R Us," Naya laced their fingers together and gently encouraged her towards the door. "I'm definitely driving you home."

Quinn was stunned into silence when she exited the restroom.

There was film equipment everywhere, and exposed bedroom sets like a giant dollhouse. People with telephone handsets buzzed purposefully around her. She'd never seen anything like it, except on... well, TV specials. It was surreal. She couldn't help but to look around in awe.

"Where are we?"

"On set? Whatever you took really did a number on you, Di," Naya said, giving her a quizzical look, "We should get you out of here before anyone notices."

Too late. Quinn jumped as someone clasped her shoulder. "Naya! Dianna, I didn't know you were scheduled today."

"Jane, hi."

Quinn watched in astonishment as _Santana_ and _Coach Sylvester_ embraced like old friends. It was probably the first time she'd ever seen them touch.

"Dianna's... not feeling well today. I'm taking her home now."

"Again?" said Jane Lynch with genuinely sympathetic air, not a trace of derision or mockery, "You just got over that nasty cold last week. Take care of yourself, kid."

"Thanks?" Quinn managed. The weird sincerity in Coach's voice was making her reflexively queasy.

"Listen, I've got a great recipe for a detox tea that will make you feel like new. Shoot you an email, okay? Need to get back for the last scene." Jane was already walking away with a short wave of her forefingers.

Beyond her, Quinn spotted Artie _standing_ and talking to Mercedes. Then, not just standing but also demonstrating a dance move.

Everything was kind of a really, really surreal blur, after that.

When she caught up again, she was in Naya's two door coupe as they pulled in front of an apartment.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay, honey?" Naya was saying, brushing her fingertips softly against Quinn's forehead, pushing her stray hairs back and behind her ears. "You look a little pale."

Quinn shook her head slightly, to clear her mind.

She must be dreaming. It was the only explanation.

"What did you say your name was, again?" Quinn asked weakly.

"Naya Rivera."

"You're an actress?"

"We both are." A perfect little line formed between Naya's furrowed brows. "You're really not okay. I've never seen you like this, Di."

"No, I'm okay," Quinn said. Then she added, unconvincingly, "Really. Just... a little addled. I guess I'm just... tired."

"Tired... right." Naya responded, clearly unmoved, "I'm going to walk you in, just to be sure you don't, like, fall over."

By the time they made it to the entrance, Quinn realized she didn't have any keys on her. She was about to confess this to the other girl when the front door unceremoniously swung open.

"Nay! Saw your car pull up and I'm so glad you're here, because..."

Dianna trailed off as she saw Quinn.

Who, having honestly teetered precariously on the brink of this _all day_, simply fainted dead away.


End file.
